


Chiaroscuro

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: A collection of AiGin drabbles. Here there be monsters.





	1. 15. "Kind of romantic, isn't it?"

**Author's Note:**

> Murder as foreplay is a thing.

There’s blood on the floor, and more of it splashed across Aizen’s no-longer immaculate white robes. Several droplets bead down Aizen’s cheek, and Gin watches, fascinated, as Aizen’s tongue darts out to catch one of them. 

“Thank you for the lovely diversion Gin,” Aizen says, and Gin shivers. Aizen’s voice trips down his spine; precise pinpricks of sound that tangle in a knot of heat somewhere in the bottom of his gut. 

“You’re welcome _taichou_ ,” Gin says, dipping his head in some kind of deference. Aizen looms over him, and Gin straightens. 

Behind them, what remains of the ‘diversion’ cools in a pool of it’s own blood. 

“I never thought you’d be one for romance, Gin,” Aizen says, and drops his hand on Gin’s shoulder. The weight of it makes Gin’s knees buckle slightly, and Aizen’s gaze cuts to him sharply, before he lifts his hand off. 

“Well, you know me _taichou_ ,” Gin drawls, “I’m full of surprises.” 

“I just bet you are,” Aizen answers, turning on Gin with a grin full of teeth. “I just bet you are.” 

Gin’s back hits the cool marble and Aizen grabs the arm Gin throws up between them in his hand. His grip makes the small bones in Gin’s wrist grind together and the pain rolls into something dark and hot when Aizen overpowers him and forces his arm back against the wall, then leans in. 

It’s not a kiss so much as it is a declaration of victory, and Gin submits, letting Aizen take and take and take until Gin is breathing heavily and arching off the wall, seeking the friction that Aizen is denying him. 

When Aizen lets him go, Gin’s eyes open slowly. His _taichou_ is staring down at him, and Gin almost wishes they were both other people, so he could reach up and touch Aizen’s face, but the thought disappears almost as soon as it comes, and instead, when Aizen lifts one eyebrow, then turns, Gin falls silently into step behind him. 


	2. 24: "Stop acting like a child."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowing [Elena's](http://deathbympreg.tumblr.com) lawyers for this one.

“Give it a rest will ya?” Gin snarks, stifling a yawn with one hand while Aizen searches through their discarded clothing for his missing cuff link. “It’s not like you can’t buy a million more of ‘em to replace that one.” 

“But I _like_  these ones,” Aizen says, tossing one of Gin’s shirts over his shoulder. The shirt hits Gin squarely in the face. “Get out of bed and help me look.” Gin picks his shirt up off his face, and throws it back on the floor. Aizen turns, and there’s a tic in his jaw. 

For a moment, all the air is sucked out of the room. Gin’s not sure if he’s overstepped or pushed just far enough. It’s an enticing kind of terror that settles in the pit of his stomach at the look that Aizen is giving him. 

“Stop acting like such a child,” Aizen says eventually, and Gin lets out the breath he forgot he was holding. “Otherwise,” Aizen pauses, leans down and when he straightens, the missing cuff link glitters in his grip. “I might have to treat you like one.” 

Aizen leaves the threat hanging between them and Gin tries to ignore the desperate sort of thrill that shivers down his spine - there must be something something fatally flawed inside him to make him want Aizen to follow through on that threat, to make him want to see exactly what might happen if he continued along this path of petulance. 

The moment passes. Aizen leaves with both of his cufflinks and Gin sprawls in his bed, arm thrown over his face, naked skin pebbling in the cool breeze from the overhead fan. 


	3. 36. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breathplay.

“Stop,” Gin says, as if it’s going to accomplish anything. Aizen tightens his grip - feeling the delicate skin of Gin’s throat under his hands. Aizen knows that his fingers will leave bruises - a ring of blue and purple against Gin’s alabaster pale skin, and he half hopes that people will notice, that Gin will try to hide them, that somehow, they will make Gin feel _used._  But he knows Gin, and Gin will wear them instead, like a badge of honour, like they were proof of Aizen’s benevolence. 

( _See? He could have killed me. And yet, and yet, I breathe. Still_ )

Beneath him, Gin heaves, pushing both against the overwhelming pressure of Aizen’s _reiatsu_ as it fills the room from the bottom up like mustard gas fills trenches and the physical weight of Aizen’s body looming over his.

Gin is suffocating, dragging in gasping breaths and Aizen watches, distractedly, as his struggling takes on a desperate edge, as his eyes widen, as his pupils dilate and his lips start to turn a dusky shade of blue. Tears bead in the corner’s of Gin’s eyes and Aizen watches as they spill over and down the side of his face. 

“ _Please_ ,” is Gin’s ragged entreaty when Aizen loosens his grip a fraction. “Taichou, _please_.” Aizen re-grips around Gin’s throat and his subordinate chokes, mouth falling open prettily, and nostrils flaring as he tries for more air. 

“Please what, Gin? We’ve talked before–” Aizen punctuates with a subtle increase in his _reiatsu. “–_ about your need for specificity.” Aizen lifts an eyebrow and Gin shudders before going limp, his eyes rolling back in his head. Aizen releases his hands. “Do you have some _specific_  request you wish to make of me, Gin?” 

Aizen waits. 

When Gin speaks, finally, his voice is hoarse. “Taichou,” he says, “if you keep on like that, you’re gonna me me cry.” There’s a sardonic twist to Gin’s lips at the end and Aizen feels his mouth curve into a smile. 

“Would you like me to make you cry, Gin?” Aizen asks and _there_  - Gin’s pupils dilate (not from asphyxia this time) and his skin flushes and his whole body goes tense and hard. “Ah,” Aizen says, and when he bends his head towards Gin’s, his voice in Gin’s ear is something liquid and dangerous. “I know just what you need.” 

Gin comes apart, the delicate arch of his spine the perfect counterpoint to the harsh intake of breath and the subtle drum of his heels on the futon. 

Aizen smiles. “Good boy.” 


End file.
